


untitled...?

by evanesce



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Homelessness, M/M, Overdosing, Prostitution, Short One Shot, Slow Burn, Unhappy Ending, derek is kinda a bad person, just... be really careful with this fic i guess, pretty dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanesce/pseuds/evanesce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had been Stiles' first new year's without Derek for many, many years. They used to have a tradition, started when they were just friends (even though they were never <i>just friends</i>). They would drive to the preserve, the fireworks they bought from his friend's friend's cousin, who just so happened to be Derek's sister's boyfriend's best friend, stored in the trunk. Stiles always loved the thrill of lighting the fuse and running before the fireworks exploded in his face, and getting to where Derek was waiting, laying on a blanket."</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled...?

**Author's Note:**

> So this originally started as just regular writing, not using Derek and Stiles, but I thought hey they totally would work. 
> 
> PLEASE NOTE THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH // ALSO NOT A HAPPY ENDING
> 
> Also I wrote this in like an hour so it's probably crap.
> 
> Enjoy!

**October:**

It was that time of year when the air was beginning to nip, turning skin into seas of faded crimson. Stiles lay alone, clutching on to the blankets for dear life, not wanting to be devoured by memories. No, sleep was a much better place to be.

 

Derek still managed to infiltrate his dreams.

 

**December:**

December was Derek's favorite month, with all the white falling from the heavens. In fact, it was because of December-induced euphoria that he had said the reckless words exactly a year ago. He said, with a dopey smile on his face (one part love and two parts beer), “I promise I’ll stay with you forever, my love.”

 

Well, where the fuck is he now? Lying son of a bitch.

 

**January:**

It had been Stiles' first new year’s without Derek for many, many years. They used to have a tradition, started when they were just friends (even though they were never _just friends_ ). They would drive to the preserve, the fireworks they bought from his friend’s friend’s cousin, who just so happened to be Derek's sister’s boyfriend’s best friend, stored in the trunk. He always loved the thrill of lighting the fuse and running before the fireworks exploded in his face, and getting to where Derek was waiting, laying on a blanket.

They would light, run, and repeat all through the night, stopping only to kiss at midnight. No one ever came to bust them – it was a small enough town, people knew what was going on.

 

This year, the skies were devoid of explosions.

 

**March:**

It was Stiles' birthday on the thirtieth. He woke at 11:34 a.m. No one was there to sing him “Happy Birthday”.

 

Derek used to wake him up with his angelic voice.

 

**July:**

His father was getting annoyed.

“Stiles,” he said over the phone one day, “you can’t just sit at home forever. You need to do something with your life.”

“I _am_ doing something: wallowing in my sadness. So stop calling, Dad”

“Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that, Stiles!”

“Whatever.”

“You’re going out tonight. I don’t care what you do, but you’re getting out of your house. And that’s not a suggestion.”

“Yes, Satan, whatever you say.”

“S–”

 _Click_. Asshole.

 

He ended up going to watch a movie.

 

**August:**

The movie was the worst idea ever. _Of course_ Derek was in it. And _of course_ Stiles didn’t bother checking who was in the movie beforehand. He had to watch Derek kiss some girl (well, he already had before, the whole reason why he was sad in the first place). Now, Stiles couldn’t stop watching movies with Derek in it, imagining that he was the lucky girl he saw on his screen.

 

He didn’t cry – it was just allergies.

 

**October:**

One whole year. One whole year of miserable. One whole year of _get over it_ and _move on_ and _you’re such a drama queen_ and _he’s just a guy_ and _there are plenty of more people out there_. But they don’t understand. They’ll never understand.

 

That night, the one-year mark, Stiles bought his first bit of coke, and _oh_ was it good.

 

**February:**

Stiles got evicted from his apartment the other day. He ran to his dad’s house, begging for him to let him stay.

 

Just yesterday he slept on the cold, hard, pedestrian-worn concrete.

 

**March:**

Stiles ran to the city. Now he’s even closer to dealers, drugs more accessible. It’s not just coke now, it’s also meth, heroin, acid… He’s running out of money fast.

 

On his birthday, he serves his first customer.

 

**June:**

Stiles is used to it now, the rhythm of _meet, flirt, suggest, find a place, fuck, get paid, cry, use, repeat_. He only gets a 10% cut of the money. It’s nowhere near good, but it’s enough to keep him alive – that is, enough to buy the drugs (aka his life support). His pimp gets the rest of the money. His pimp reminds him of Derek: same eyes, those piercing eyes.

Stiles could deal to make more money, but that shit is too risky, too much responsibility. He could get hurt! It’s not like he gets beat every other week, scars given to him eternally by his pimp, by his customers.

 

He knows he’s nothing.

 

**September:**

Stiles doesn’t know if he can make it through the winter, so he dares himself to do something for himself, for once. He makes the long journey, but starts to regret it when he rings the doorbell, not sure if he can do it. But then the door swings open, and it’s too late. No turning back.

 

That day, a father did not recognize his own son.

 

**November:**

Stiles was staying at his pimp’s house, cramped with all the other rent boys, all people he vaguely knew but never really bothered talking to. They were all the same: desperate addicts. For once he wasn’t alone.

 

Yet, he was fading.

 

**March:**

For months Stiles kept deteriorating. More drugs, more sex, more abuse. It then ended abruptly, all of it. He was free, finally. It was the best birthday present he could ask for. The cops found him in the alley the next day. _Overdose_ , they said. They asked around, trying to see if he had any family who would want his body. And eventually, they found his father.

 

He finally knew who the random guy that one day was.

 

**April:**

Stiles' funeral was attended by few. The town hadn’t forgotten about him, but he was… a sore subject. His father was spring, tears coming from his eyes non-stop.

 

No one bothered telling Derek.

 

**May:**

Derek is moving soon. Yesterday, he was digging through some old yet recent stuff when he found a polaroid of Stiles and him. Smiling, having the time of their lives. Stiles was so beautiful. Derek resents what he did, was really really truly sorry. Never did contact Stiles again though, he was clear in saying to "NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN!"

 

Derek wonders where he is now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably write a regular/happy Sterek fic sometime in the near future so look out for that!
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at [rnystic.tumblr.com](rnystic.tumblr.com)!! Shoot me a message or whatever you want!! (:


End file.
